Dark Sunday
by Wobble
Summary: How things can change so quickly. How things are never the same on Sundays - at least, for Draco...
1. Dark Sunday

**Dark Sunday**

_A Very Short Draco Story_

**Author : **Finn-Turner

**Rating : **R for slashy-ness, non-con, implied spousal/child abuse, and being generally dark.

**Summary : **Draco thought he knew Harry. Inspired by the song "Sunday Morning" by No Doubt.

**Author's Note : **you do not need to hear the song to understand the fic. You do not need to interpret the excerpt from the song the way I did to understand the fic. I just thought it would be appropriate to cite what really inspired this. Thanks – and please review, good or bad. Also, I'll be uploading the accompaniment as soon as I can, which will probably be sometime tomorrow.

**Disclaimer : **I'm not in affiliation with J.K. Rowling, any of her representatives, or the companies that publish _Harry Potter_ or that bring the novels to film. I'm just a 16-year-old with a small obsession and a computer. Thanks

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_I'd trade you places any day  
__I'd never thought you could be that way  
__But you looked like me on Sunday  
__  
You came in with the breeze  
__On Sunday morning  
__You sure have changed since yesterday  
__Without any warning  
__I thought I knew you  
__I thought I knew you  
__I thought I knew you well, so well  
_((--_Sunday Morning_, No Doubt))

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And I thought I knew you. I thought I knew you. I thought I could trust you, but I guess I couldn't.

I guess I couldn't.

And you stared at me on Sunday like you knew me, like you knew what I was thinking. You thought about last Sunday, how you had gotten me.

I thought I knew you, Harry. I thought I knew you.

It's always Dark Sunday.

Dark Sunday cause I know you will find me. Dark Sunday because I knew Father thinks of me. Dark Sunday cause Mother will be pushed against the wall, having taken my place as the ragdoll of the manor. Dark Sunday because you will find me and you will treat me like the others.

You think you are different, Potter. You're just the same as they are and I was. I used to be like you – pushy and greedy.

Not anymore, Potter.

Not anymore.

Not after what has happened to me Potter.

But I thought I knew you. I thought I knew that you loved me, that you would never hurt me and what did you do?

Dark Sunday, Harry.

It'll be another Dark Sunday.

You find me in the Quidditch pitch. I don't know how, as I was hiding.

I would have never kissed you if I had known it would escalate into this.

It begins to rain and the rain soaks my cloak.

You tell me I look beautiful, all slick with rain and dripping. You tell me that my face is beautiful, covered in the damp.

I thought I knew you.

I thought you were different, Harry. But you're not. We're the same.

It was a Dark Sunday. There will always be a Dark Sunday, Harry.

Dark Sunday, Harry.

I thought I knew you.

You touch my arms and I know it's coming.

Dark Sunday.

You lurch against me.

Dark Sunday.

"I love you, Draco."

No, you don't.

Dark Sunday.

You love what I give you.

Dark Sunday.

"Draco…" Your purring is driving me mad. My name over and over as you lurch and groan and push and force. Dracodracodracodracodraco.

Dark Sunday.

You laugh into my ear after a small whimper. I feel it. How I feel it.

Dark Sunday.

Mother's spine smashes into the wall.

Dark Sunday, Harry.

Always, Dark Sunday.

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**Thanks for reading! Please, please review!**


	2. Weak

Weak  
_An Abusive!Lucius fic _

By Finn-Turner

**Rating: **R for implied non-con, child abuse, and darkness.

**Summary : **Lucius always knows. An accompaniment to Dark Sunday.

**Disclaimer : **I'm not J.K. Rowling. I think I forgot to put this on **Dark Sunday, **which is a bad thing. Sorry.

**Author's Note : **I do this a lot – tell Draco's story and then Lucius' thoughts on it. I really like doing it, but it gets a bit mundane I know. If you dislike it, please tell me. If you like it, tell me. Please review. I'll take flames because sometimes they are helpful.

* * *

And I know what Potter did to you, Draco.

I know, I know so well. I know, I know. How could I not know? That look in your eyes like you were just a shell, just an empty shell of what you had once been. Weak, that's what it is, weakness…

I know you cried. You cried like you did when you were a child. You took what you were given and those tears ran down your face. You whimpered and whined and you acted the submissive little bastard. You let him do what he did – don't lie, Draco. It's just like when you were a child. You sat down and let anyone do whatever he or she wanted with you.

You were weak from the start, you little bastard.

You cried too much. You screeched and scratched and yelled until you got attention. You would quiver so much when I yelled at you and then, you would break into tears again! You learned nothing from punishment, Draco! Or at least, I thought you had. You weak little bastard…

I taught you to be a Malfoy, but I suppose I failed.

I failed, yes I'll admit I failed at something. You little bastard, you weak minded little fuck.

I know what you let Potter do, Draco.

You let him touch you and caress you.

You let him fuck you, you little twat!

How could you? You are a disgrace to this family and a traitor to our cause.

Don't cry, Draco. Don't hunker in the corner. You're shaking and I see it so very clearly – like the blue-tinged moon on the darkest of nights, the raccoon's eye glaring from dust-filled darkness.

You'll pay for what you've done, Draco.

You'll pay.

Don't shake so much, little Dragon, it only makes you look weak.


End file.
